s what he is. And when he gets
his mad up it's a case of get out from under or something will fall on
you--hard."

"Just like that," Mary added.

Billy, who had taken no part in the conversation, got up, glanced into
the bedroom off the kitchen, went into the parlor and the bedroom off
the parlor, then returned and stood gazing with puzzled brows into the
kitchen bedroom.

"What's eatin' you, old man," Bert queried. "You look as though you'd
lost something or was markin' a three-way ticket. What you got on your
chest? Cough it up."

"Why, I'm just thinkin' where in Sam Hill's the bed an' stuff for the
back bedroom."

"There isn't any," Saxon explained. "We didn't order any."

"Then I'll see about it to-morrow."

"What d'ye want another bed for?" asked Bert. "Ain't one bed enough for
the two of you?"

"You shut up, Bert!" Mary cried. "Don't get raw."

"Whoa, Mary!" Bert grinned. "Back up. You're in the wrong stall as
usual."

"We don't need that room," Saxon was saying to Billy. "And so I didn't
plan any furniture. That money went to buy better carpets and a better
stove."

Billy came over to her, lifted her from the chair, and seated himself
with her on his knees.

"That's right, little girl. I'm glad you did. The best for us every
time. And to-morrow night I want you to run up with me to Salinger's
an' pick out a good bedroom set an' carpet for that room. And it must be
good. Nothin' snide."

"It will cost fifty dollars," she objected.

"That's right," he nodded. "Make it cost fifty dollars and not a cent
less. We're goin' to have the best. And what's the good of an empty
room? It'd make the house look cheap. Why, I go around now, seein' this
little nest just as it grows an' softens, day by day, from the day we
paid the cash money down an' nailed the keys. Why, almost every moment
I'm drivin' the horses, all day long, I just keep on seein' this nest.
And when we're married, I'll go on seein' it. And I want to see it
complete. If that room'd he bare-floored an' empty, I'd see nothin' but
it and its bare floor all day long. I'd be cheated. The house'd be
a lie. Look at them curtains you put up in it, Saxon. That's to make
believe to the neighbors that it's furnished. Saxon, them curtains are
lyin' about that room, makin' a noise for every one to hear that that
room's furnished. Nitsky for us. I'm goin' to see that them curtains
tell the truth."

"You might rent it," Bert suggested. "You're close to